


Music of the Night

by gwishin



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Music, Ballet Dancer Yuri Plisetsky, Composer Otabek Altin, M/M, gratuitous phantom of the opera references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15331572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwishin/pseuds/gwishin
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky is a ballet dancer at the beginning of what promises to be a star career in the country's premiere company. He's made a career of focusing on his talent and ignoring all the overzealous mentors, crazy ballet masters, and obsessive (yet insanely wealthy) suitors that stand in his way.However, it becomes very hard to ignore the mysterious, hotshot composer who is only known to everybody as 'The Phantom' and has seemed to make it his mission to completely derail Yuri's life.





	1. Is it the Ghost?

 

“Grand Jete, now”

Yuri let out a silent sigh of relief as the ballet mistresses' sharp eyes landed on the student next to him. They were at the tail end of a long day of classes and Yuri didn't know if he had the mental fortitude to deal with Lilia's sharp criticism being directed towards him.

The other guy, Peter Ward, gingerly made his way to the back of the room and waited for the pianist to start up the music before attempting the jump. Yuri didn't mind Peter, he was a decent enough kid that knew how to keep out of Yuri's business, but even he winced as the boy performed a completely subpar jete.

Lilia looked as though she had swallowed something extremely bitter as she tapped her foot on the ground.

“A grand jete is about the mix of balance and jumping ability. You have shown that you possess neither, Mr. Ward. Yuri, please come up and show the class how to properly perform the jump”

Yuri bit back a groan as he stood up. He could feel the eyes of all the other students burning holes in him as he walked towards the corner of the practice room. Most of the other boys already hated him and the fact that Lilia Baranovskaya—who was not only the strictest instructor in the school but also the ballet mistress for the school's parent company—seemed to favor him was definitely one of the main reasons.

The pianist started playing and Yuri, almost mindlessly, propelled himself into what feels like a decent grand jete. The muscles burning in his legs almost feels good even after a day of brutal practice.

“A bit stiff with the landing but this is what I am looking for” Lilia said, eyes sharp as she turned to the other students “The year is coming to a close soon and most of you will have to decide what you want to do for a career. City Ballet only takes the top students as apprentices, the rest of you will either have to audition elsewhere or decide if a career in ballet is right for you or not. This is the age where you have to be committed to nothing else besides your art. If that is not for you, then stop wasting both your time and the time of the school. Class will begin at 8am sharp tomorrow morning as always”

And with that, the boys were dismissed for the day. Yuri walked over to where he had tossed his bag against the wall before the class, pulling out his phone and checking the time. He sighed. It was already 4:30. He was officially running late and wouldn't even have any time to shower, let alone get any stretching in.

“Damn, Madame B was being extra bitchy today” one of the students complained as he slid against the wall in exhaustion.

“Yeah, all that crap about how we can't do anything besides dance” another kid snarled “as though they even let us have a life outside of ballet here. You okay, Peter?”

Peter Ward just shrugged as he picked up his bag. “Well she wasn't lying. I'm already 18 so i'll age out of the school at the end of the year. And judging from the way Madame B hates me, I doubt she'll be giving me an apprenticeship with City Ballet”

“She doesn't hate you” another student said “She just doesn't like any of us. Well besides, Yuri. He's the golden child”

“Fuck off” Yuri answered back as he took a towel from his bag.

“She just favors you because you're both Russian”

 _She favors me because I actually have talent_ Yuri thought, but bit it back. He didn't need to start any sort of drama with these kids, it wasn't worth it. “I've never even been to Russia before. I'm about as Russian as any of you guys are”

“Oh Yuri, your lines are looking especially beautiful today” one of the students gushed in a poor imitation of Lilia's clipped accent. “Everyone, look at Yuri dancing. Isn't it incredible”

“I said fuck off” Yuri said, half-heartedly smacking his towel in the boy's direction. They all had a bit of a laugh as they left the practice room. On the surface it all seemed like good natured teasing, but anyone who spent even a few months in the ballet world could feel the tension that was there. Yuri loved...well maybe loved wasn't the right word...Yuri was _committed_ to ballet. But he hated the cattiness and constant competition that came along with it. He knew he was lucky—School of American Ballet was the best training school in the country and their parent company, New York City Ballet, was something that most dancers could only dream of making it into. It was all way more than a kid who had grown up in a rundown apartment in Brighton Beach could have hoped for so Yuri kept his head down and mouth shut as much as he could.

After all, he thought as he left the school building and made his way into the subway station, it would be a total waste to run his mouth and get kicked out of the school when he was so close to getting offered a company contract. His grandfather had spent way too much money on his classes for him to ruin it all now.

Speaking of money...Yuri checked his watch again and cursed. The subway to Brighton Beach would take at least 45 minutes and his shift started in 50. Maybe if he ran...

Even with all the running, Yuri was 5 minutes late for his shift. Luckily for him no one else was working on the random Tuesday night besides Mila Babicheva—a Russian expat university student who had (only slightly annoyingly) adopted Yuri as her younger brother and wouldn't tattle on him for being a few minutes behind.

“Second time late this week and it's only Tuesday. Impressive, Plisetsky”

“Bite me, Baba” Yuri said with no real heat behind his words. As much as he liked to pretend Mila annoyed him, she was one of the very few people he actually considered a friend. “Is Deda here?”

“Of course he's here. You know he's the only one of us who knows how to cook anything. It's a shame he didn't pass any of it down to you” Mila sighed as she leaned over to try to muss Yuri's hair. Yuri skillfully ducked out of her way.

“I wouldn't if I were you. Didn't have time to shower after class so my hair is gross.”

“So you do care about me” Mila said with a huge smile “And please don't tell me that you actually rode the subway without taking a shower first...”

“Baba, you've lived in the City for two years now. You've had to have seen grosser things on the subway than a sweaty ballet student”

“That's one thing I miss about Moscow, the clean subways” Mila sighed in longing “well that and the pelmeni”

“Like anyone's pelmeni could be better than Deda's” Yuri sniffed as he made his way into the back of the little lounge. As always his grandfather was standing by the ovens, checking on whatever was baking inside. A pot of what smelled like the beginnings of borscht simmered on the stove.

“Late again today, Yuratchka?” Nikolai said without even looking up.

“Sorry, Deda, class went a little over” Yuri explained as he tossed his practice bag into the side room and slipped an apron on in no hurry. It was still a bit too early for the dinner crowd to come in yet, so the cozy lounge was empty save for a few college aged kids half drowning in cups of strong, Russian coffee.

“Your classes have been going over almost every day for the past couple of weeks”

“End of the year workshop is coming up so we have more rehearsals.” Yuri answered, swiping a Sushki bread from a pile that had been set out to cool and stuffing it in his mouth “Lilia has been riding our asses extra hard”

“Those are for paying customers” Nikolai said with narrowed eyes “did you get any good parts in the workshop?”

“You know I always get good parts, Deda. They gave me two leads this time plus I'm second cast for Carousel”

“So do you think you will be getting your apprentice contract this year?”

Yuri sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter. He had no idea what would happen. The school normally only accepted a couple of students into the company each year as apprentices. Yuri was only 17 so he technically still had another year he could stay in the school before he aged out, but he honestly didn't know if they'd be able to afford another year's tuition. Even though he had started working at the lounge with Nikolai as soon as he turned 15, money was still tight for the two of them. He had hoped that he would have been accepted into the company last year. Sure, he had been younger than usual but he had gotten good leads in the workshop back then too and everybody had expected him to get his apprenticeship. But Lilia had just taken in 3 girls and no boys at all. 

Nikolai leaned over and places a comforting hand on his grandson's shoulder. “Ah, forget I asked anything. You're still young—too young to be worried about dancing professionally if you ask me”

“You were the one to bring it up!”

“Only because I know it's your dream, Yuratchka” Nikolai said with an indulgent smile. “Ever since I took you to see the Nutcracker when you were five”

Yuri returned the smile. “You know, all my classmates are always shocked when I tell them that it was my grandfather who introduced me to ballet.”

“I just wanted you to know Russian music. What kind of Russian child could I say I was raising if I didn't even take you to hear Tchaikovsky.”

“Probably didn't expect me to actually go into ballet, though” Yuri said. Nikolai shook his head.

“You were so young I honestly expected you to just sleep the entire time. But everyone always did say that little Yuratchka was a very intense child”

“No one has ever said that” Yuri lied—it was one of the only things the old people in their neighborhood ever said about him when they commented on his childhood. Probably more because that was the only nice thing they could really say about it. “Anyways, I have to go out there and help Baba. Dinner rush will be starting soon”

“Don't tire yourself out too much, Yuri, you still have to do your school work tonight”

“I know, Deda” Yuri said with a roll of his eyes as he made his way out of the kitchen. One of the worst things about being a full time ballet student was that most all of his school work had to be done late at night after a full day of dancing and slogging dishes around the lounge. But it was one of the only rules that both the ballet school and his grandpa had given him: he had to at least finish his high school education. 

“Your grandpa riding your ass about getting a ballet contract again?” Mila asked as soon as Yuri stepped back into the front.

Yuri immediately scowled at her. “He doesn't...."

“He doesn't ride your ass. He just wants you to achieve your dreams. I know, I know” Mila finished with a laugh, repeating what Yuri always told her. “He's just as frustrated as the rest of us. I mean, we all went to your workshop last year and you danced better than any of those other losers”

“Thanks, Baba” Yuri said dully. Though he would never admit it, he did appreciate his grandfather and Mila's unwavering faith in him. It was nice to have a support system, even though it did add some pressure on him to prove himself.

“Plus, I want to brag to my friends back home that I know a famous ballet dancer” Mila added on.

“Like Russians would even care about an American dancer”

“Oh trust me, they totally do. I showed a few girls from my old high school your instagram and now they've been bugging me nonstop to give you their contact info. You interested? They're pretty cute”

“No thanks, no time for dating” Yuri said quickly.

“And no interest in girls?” Mila added on with raised eyebrows. Yuri swatted at her with a dish towel before quickly moving to clear a couple of coffee mugs off a table. Her ugly cackling sounded from behind him and if he wasn't afraid his grandfather would stick his head out of the kitchen to see what the noise was about, Yuri would totally flip her off.

It wasn't as though Mila's observation wasn't true. Yuri really did have no interest in girls. But he also had no interest in boys. His life ever since he was 6 and joined the School of American Ballet seriously had been about nothing but dance. He got all of his education online—had never had the typical high school experience or gone to prom or sports games or dated or even really had any friends. His sole focus was on becoming a better dancer and getting into the company and earning enough money that his grandfather wouldn't have to work in the kitchen of a rundown lounge in Brighton Beach for the rest of his life.

Sure it wasn't the typical teenage life, but Yuri was okay with it. It would be worth it one day in the future when he was a principal dancer and owned a Manhattan apartment where he would live with his grandpa and 10 cats. Besides, who needed love anyways. If all the ballets they always danced to was anything to go by, love only ever ended in death and overly dramatic music. 

Yuri picked up some other plates and mugs that had been left over by patrons and dropped them off in the sink for the dishwasher who would come closer to the dinner rush.

“Oh shit, the blind guy is back again” Mila whispered excitedly as Yuri stepped back out. He stopped and stared at the redheaded girl like she was crazy.

“Don't look at me like that” Mila said, still whispering “He came last week as well, but during my lunch shift. He's totally cute...well at least the parts I can see are totally cute. He wears these sunglasses that are way too big...”

“Oh my god, are you hitting on a blind guy?”

“What's wrong with that? _You're_ the one with a problem if you think blind guys can't be cute. Besides I think he'd totally be your type. You know, the moody musician kind”

Yuri didn't know whether to be offended or not. “Why do you think I would like moody musicians?”

“I dunno, both of you can bond over your crappy artistic lives or whatever. Last time he was here he just stayed in the corner and played sad music on the piano the whole time”

“But I thought you said he was blind? How is he playing the piano?”

Now it was Mila's turn to look offended “God, I know you Americans are uncultured and all but surely you have to know about Bach. You know, one of the most famous composers of all time, played the piano better than most anybody....totally blind.”

“You don't have to be a dick about it” Yuri said, refusing to let himself sound embarrassed. “I was just curious”

“Well, just in case you can get over your prejudice of blind people, I think he's about to go play the piano again. Go up to him and ask him if he wants a coffee or something”

“I do not have a prejudice” Yuri quickly spat out, but Mila was already walking away with a cackle. Yuri really needed to find new friends...or any friend that wasn't Mila....

With a sigh, Yuri turned back towards the dining area and tried to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible as he glanced over towards the piano area. Just like Mila said, there was a boy wearing oversized sunglasses perched near the instrument, hands mindlessly drumming patterns on the old wood. It was impossible to tell his age, but he looked young enough. Rather, the parts of him that were visible looked young enough. Even though it was well into July, the boy was dressed in black jeans, a soft looking sweater, and a gray scarf that was wrapped securely around his neck. A pair of enormous sunglasses covered the entirety of his eyes and a good portion of his cheeks as well. But Yuri had to admit that the parts that could be seen—a strong, straight nose, full lips, and hair styled rather perfectly—were attractive.

Not that he cared about that.

The boy drummed his fingers on the piano for a few seconds longer before sitting down and starting to play. Yakov Feltsman, the ancient guy who owned the lounge, used to be a pianist for the Bolshoi in Moscow and had brought the piano with him when he moved to the US. He was barely ever in the lounge but he always made sure that old thing was tuned properly—something that Yuri was very grateful for now. The boy was obviously talented and whatever song he was playing was unknown to Yuri, but it was dark and soulful and complex and spoke to Yuri's soul in a way music rarely did. Maybe Mila was onto something when she pegged him as the moody type. Not that he'd ever admit that to her. Or anybody, really. No need to add 'typical angsty teenager' to the list of things people assumed of him.

With a resigned huff, Yuri turned away from the piano and the mysterious boy playing it and busied himself straightening out menus and wiping down counters all while avoiding Mila's knowing gaze. A steady stream of dinner customers started to come in as the piano boy moved from one song to another—all equally dreary and equally perfect, and Yuri was sufficiently distracted enough by the music and taking care of the customers that he didn't even notice the time until it was almost closing. There were only a few customers left at that late hour, a group of old men chatting in Russian over coffee and the boy at the piano.

Yuri checked the clock on the wall and sighed at the hour. He started to clean the tables, hoping the people would get the hint that it was time to leave, when a very familiar melody started coming from the piano.

Up until that point, sunglasses boy had been playing songs that Yuri hadn't heard before—even in his nearly 12 years of ballet classes—but this song was something that was plucked straight from his memories. Yuri closed his eyes and he could almost see his mother sitting next to his bed at night. He most certainly could remember her voice, clear and perfect, singing his favorite lullaby to him everyday no matter how tired she was. 

Without thinking, the words to Bayushki Bayu came out of Yuri's mouth as he continued to clean off the tables. Normally when he sang it was after hours, when Mila turned on the radio and both of the belted out whatever was on as they swept up. But Yuri couldn't resist the pull of the song that marked so much of his childhood. It was a very dirge-like lullaby, with it's somber tone, sparse instrumentals, and verses about monsters and soldiers. But it was incredibly Russian and it ironically reminded Yuri of happier times—of his mother still being there, of his grandfather's hoarse voice singing it to him as he forced his ballet ravaged feet into baths of ice and epsom salt.

_“How many bitter tears will I silently weep on the night when you go. Sleep my angel, slowly and softly. Lullaby a-bye”_

Yuri opened his eyes as the last line of lyrics left him. It felt as though the rest of the cafe had gone silent, but it was just the piano had stopped playing for the first time that night. Yuri looked up and found the boy at the piano facing his direction. His cheeks instantly reddened and he brought his hands up, hoping to hide his blush before realizing the other boy couldn't see it anyways.

“You sing well”

As far as first things to say to someone went, it wasn't the worst, but it also wasn't the greatest.

Yuri just stared at the boy with his mouth slightly opened. “Uhhh...”

“I mean, your voice” the boy added, obviously noticing Yuri's discomfort. His voice was deep and rich, his Russian slightly accented “It's very emotive. You could hear the sadness”

“It's a sad song” Yuri pointed out.

“It's also a lullaby for babies”

“Yeah, but it's a Russian lullaby, which means it's a sad song” The boy at the piano kept the same impassive face, but his shoulders sagged a little in a more relaxed gesture. Yuri wondered if that was this kid's version of laughing.

“Are you a singer?” the boy asked. Yuri almost laughed at that.

“Me? A singer?”

“You could be with that voice”

Something cold bubbled up in the pit of Yuri's stomach but he tapered it down before answering airily “I don't have time for singing or anything like that. I'm a dancer”

“Makes sense” the boy said and Yuri wondered how in the world it made sense to him. Sure he looked like a dancer did, with strong and long limbs, but it wasn't like this guy could see what he looked like. “Where do you dance with?”

“I'm with the School of American Ballet. Hoping to be at the New York City Ballet soon enough”

The boy's shoulders sagged down even more. “What a coincidence”

“What is?” Yuri asked, now even more confused.

“Nothing. Just sometimes things are funny coincidences” The boy stood up. “It was nice to meet you...”

“Yuri...Plisetsky” Yuri said, stepping closer to the boy wondering if they should shake hands and how one even goes about initiating a hand shake with a blind person. But as soon as he took one step closer, the piano boy immediately jumped off his stool like a skittish lamb and backed away. Yuri stopped in his place, equally spooked. 

“Maybe our paths will cross again in the future” the boy said, sounding like an old man or some wizened wizard character from a storybook more than a young guy. He nodded his head and made his way out of the lounge in quick steps, as though he was afraid that Yuri would follow him or something.

“What was that asshole's deal?” Yuri muttered as he watched the boy nearly run out and door shutter close with a loud bang.

Mila leaned over the counter and stared at him. “Isn't he totally cute? But what did you do to scare him away like that, though?”

“I didn't do anything! He was just being a total dickhead. I introduced myself and then he ran away before even saying what his name was”

“Maybe he's just shy” Mila pointed out.

“He acted like I was going to stab him”

“To be fair, you do kind of have that cold bitch look going on most of the time”

“He's blind, Baba. He can't see what I look like”

Mila pursed her lips. “Or maybe he's not blind and we were just too quick to judge him”

_“We?”_

“Could be that he just likes to be mysterious with those sunglasses.” she continued on without acknowledging Yuri “It does give him that sort of spy vibe, doesn't it? Or like he's a famous movie star trying to hide his identity from the common folk”

“Well whatever he is, he's still an asshole so can we stop talking about him?” Yuri asked Mila sighed and leaned against the front counter dramatically.

“Fine, but you should actually try to talk to someone else your own age sometimes.”

“I talked to hi...”

“ _Without_ calling them assholes” Mila interrupted.

“Sure, sure” Yuri grumbled, dropping the subject. Because he didn't want to think about the maybe-blind asshole who knew how to play songs that seemed ripped from Yuri's own body.

Definitely not.

Those sad, haunting melodies weren't playing as Yuri stayed up that night doing his online classes with his feet in an ice bucket and his grandfather fast asleep in a recliner nearby. The lyrics to Bayushki Bayu weren't ringing in his ears as he took a lukewarm bath in order to clean off scent of ballet studio and piroshki grease off of him. And the boy's comments about his singing _most certainly_ weren't in his head as he went to bed that night.

 

 


	2. The New Marguerite

 

Yuri's alarm woke him up the next morning as it did every single morning. There was nothing more annoying to a seasoned dancer than anything from the Nutcracker, so Yuri had the songs on rotation as his wake-up alarm.

The weather outside was shit, which made the Waltz of the Flowers even more irritating as Yuri got up and went through his typical morning routine. Life would be so much easier for him if he stayed in the SAB dorms or even rented an apartment closer to the school, but he couldn't imagine what rent in Manhattan was like and there was no way that he would ever leave his grandpa even he could afford it. Their crumbling Brighton Beach apartment was a miserable hour commute from the glitz and glamor of Koch Theatre, but it was still home...

...Though as Yuri stumbled out of the Lincoln Center Station—nearly trampled on all sides by the early morning weekday rush, he wondered if he could convince his grandpa that Manhattan could also be home. Once he was an established enough dancer to earn that kind of rent money, that was.

Luckily Lincoln Center plaza was never as busy as the surrounding areas. It was mostly just filled with a few camera-happy tourists mixed in with students from Fordham and Julliard hurrying to their early morning lectures.

Yuri debated whether to go to the cafeteria that SAB students shared with Julliard in order to grab a quick breakfast, but decided that getting an extra few minutes of stretching before class would be more worth it. He hadn't gotten to do any cool down yesterday and probably wouldn't again today so his poor muscles needed it. The ice bath that he'd done the night before wasn't doing much in easing the tension that had been building up in his quads.

He mindlessly got on the elevator and pressed the button. The doors were closing before a familiar voice rang through.

“Keep the elevator open!!”

Yuri immediately pressed the 'close door' button, but he was too slow as a flurry of silver hair and too much expensive cologne assaulted his senses and nearly barreled into him.

“Yuratchka! I haven't seen you in ages!!!”

Yuri sighed and leaned against the wall as Viktor Nikiforov's dumb smile and just...total dumb self...confronted him. His equally dumb poodle was trying to climb up Yuri to lick his face, leaving a pool of drool on the elevator floor.

It was way too early in the morning for this.

Viktor was probably the most famous principal dancer in the New York City Ballet and most other students would be in utter awe if the man even acknowledged them, let alone knew their name. But Yuri had been plagued by this curse of a man ever since he had started class at SAB when he was 6. Viktor had been 18 and in his last year at the school and had proclaimed that the tiny kid with the blonde bowl-cut and most promising natural turnout was the single most adorable little baby he had ever seen in his life. Ever since then, he had followed Yuri's school career with an almost brotherly like care.

If brothers were soul sucking emotional vampires with drooly dogs, that was.

“Thank you for holding the elevator for me, it's been so hard for me to move ever since I messed up my knee” Viktor said in a huff.

Yuri gave a cursory glance at the brace on Viktor's knee and felt his own knee twinge in solidarity. It wasn't a career ending injury by any measure, but as a dancer Yuri knew how devastating any sort of injury could be.

“What are you doing here, Yuratchka?” Viktor asked, as though he didn't know that SAB and City Ballet's practice rooms were in the same building. Yuri didn't even bother to acknowledge the question with an answer. Instead he just looked at the older man with a scowl.

“You're in a strangely good mood for someone who's still injured”

“I'm just very excited!” Viktor said, nearly squealing.

“Why? The doctors finally figured out how to remove the gigantic stick rammed up your butt?”

“I'll have you know, little Yuratchka, that many men would be more than happy to ram their...”

“You better not finish that sentence, you deranged pervert” Yuri shouted “I am a _child_ ”

Viktor just chuckled. “Oh now you're a child. Because I remember calling you a child last week and you very graphically telling me how you were going to stick my partner's pointe shoe up my butt...now that I think about you, you do seem to have an odd obsession with sticking things up my derriere...”

“Not as much as you do” Yuri said with a grin, which just grew wider as Viktor's expression soured.

“You really are a teenager aren't you” Viktor sighed dramatically “And here I was all excited for you...”

“You literally see me every week, Viktor. There's no need to get excited anymore” Yuri said as the elevator stopped on his floor. Viktor just leaned over and ruffled Yuri's hair in a way he knew the younger boy hated. Yuri almost hissed at him.

“Even though you're so grumpy now, you're still the most adorable little baby I have ever seen. I just want to let you know that I'm so happy for you, Yuratchka”

And with that, the elevator door closed and Yuri found himself standing in the hallway in a mixture of confusion and disgust—as was normal after every time Viktor talked to him. He shrugged it off and headed to deposit his workout bag in his cubby before changing into his ballet shoes and walking into one of the empty classrooms. There was no need to let Viktor and his never-ending weirdness ruin his day before it even started. Workshop was coming up soon and Yuri knew he had to impress to get Lilia to look at him. 

The familiar ballet classroom smell of rosin and wood and sweat and stale air conditioning was way more comforting than it should be. Yuri was just about to start his exercises when Lilia stuck her head into the room and nodded at him.

“Mister Plisetsky, I was hoping I would find you in here. I need to talk to you in my office”

Yuri swallowed and nodded, no choice but to follow the lady out of the room and down the hall. Nothing good ever came out of talks in Lilia's office. The last time he had been in there was because he had been taken out of the winter gala due to a stubborn ankle sprain. He wasn't injured currently, but he he knew the tenseness in his quads had made him perform a little under-par in the past few classes. Was Lilia going to pull his leads from the workshop because of it? Surely he could just stretch it out a little more....

By the time they passed Lilia's secretary and went into her impressive office, Yuri already had an action plan set out in his head. So when Lilia turned to him and said “I have asked Tyler Wilson to take your place in the workshop performances”, Yuri was ready to spring into the conversation full speed.

“There's no need for that, Madame. My quads aren't pulled—just a little tense because I haven't been stretching them as I should after classes. But I will go and see PT and they'll be just fine in time for workshop” Yuri said in one breath. Lilia looked at him in confusion.

“What in the world are you talking about boy?”

Yuri was equally as confused. “You wanted to pull me out of the workshop...”

“Yes, and if you would have let me finish, I would have explained to you why. I know this is highly unorthodox, but I have found myself in a strange position thanks to our board of trustees. They have given us a new composition that they want City Ballet to use to choreograph a ballet for the upcoming fall season” Lilia spat out the whole thing with a look of mild disgust that Yuri wasn't sure was directed at the board of trustees or the new composition or both.

“We were going to do Jewels. I even had Valentino on the line to create new costumes for it. It would have been a grand revitalization” Lilia said. If she showed more emotions Yuri would almost say she was longing “But nevertheless the board, despite not knowing a _ballonné_ from a _balancé_ , believe that doing a ballet to this new piece of music will be good for the image of the company. The composer is apparently a Julliard student who is popular amongst the youth”

Yuri nodded. He was still confused as to how any of this had to do with him.

“Viktor Nikiforov was dancing the lead with Jilllian Torres, I'm sure you're familiar”

Everyone was familiar with Jillian Torres. She was a principal dancer that was even more popular than Viktor, as was natural in the ballet world. The women did tend to get all the glory, but Jillian had the talent to back it up as well. “Yes, of course”

“And I'm sure you're also aware that Viktor is now injured”

“Yes...”

“Well we would like you to replace him in this” Lilia said, finally getting to the point.

Yuri felt like he had all the air knocked out of him as he processed the words. They wanted him....to dance....in a new ballet...with a _principal dancer_...

“I was worried that Viktor would be offended when I mentioned you would make a good replacement, heaven's knows the ego on him, but he seemed to... _vehemently_ agree with my assessment of your skills” Lilia continued as though she couldn't see Yuri having a mini panic attack right in front of her. "If I was able to ascertain correctly, he has been following your student career closely"

“I'm going to be dancing...with _Jillian Torres_ ” Yuri was finally able to strangle out. 

Lilia stopped talking and looked at the boy in front of her with the hint of a smile. “Well yes, Plisetsky”

“How can I?” Yuri asked, eyes wild “I'm just a student! I'm not even in the company yet”

“Ah, I do suppose we have to get it formally out of the way then” Lilia said “I was planning on doing this after the workshop anyways, but with this new situation I am afraid that our timeline has been expedited. I'm officially offering you an apprenticeship with the New York City Ballet. Congratulations and the company looks forward to working with you. Is that good now?”

If anything, Yuri's panic increased. He had gotten his apprenticeship. After 12 years of dancing, he had finally made it and not only was he going to be dancing with the company, he had been given a lead role right away.

“Normally students do have time to process everything once they have been given their apprenticeships, however as I said we are in an unusual situation, so I will need you to report to the City Ballet practice rooms right away. The ballet master will have the new music and choreography for you to start practicing. I trust you can handle this?”

“Of course, Madame.”

“It's just Lilia for you, now. I am no longer your teacher.”

Yuri couldn't imagine a world where he would call the lady in front of him by her first name but he nodded nevertheless. Everything was going much too fast to really process, but he knew that it was expected of him to be able to jump into these kinds of situations with little to no preparation. Improvisation was an essential part of being a professional dancer--one that people usually got some time to learn how to deal with, but nothing about this step in Yuri's career was usual. 

“And what is this you were saying about your quads?”

“Just some light tension” Yuri said quickly. “Nothing major”

Lilia just nodded. “Well stop by the PT and get it taken care of before it becomes major. It wouldn't look good for me if the new apprentice that I cast in a major role becomes injured in his first week. You are dismissed now.”

And with that, Yuri was ushered out of the room as quickly as it came.

This was not the way that he had been expecting to get his apprenticeship. He had seen others get it over the years he had been in the advanced class and he had fully been prepared for it. To be called out in a group during a rehearsal or class and then told all together that they were going to be apprentices. And then to have the rest of the day to bask in the feeling of achieving his goals with all the other new apprentices.

Instead here he was, by himself, before any of the other students had even come in for the day—walking to the elevator again but this time to take himself to the top floor where a NYCB ballet master would be waiting to teach him the choreography to a brand new ballet...that he was going to be dancing lead in.

It wasn't unheard of. There were other apprentices who had gotten thrown into leads because a principal had gotten injured and Lilia had seen star potential in them. In fact, Jillian Torres herself had gotten recognized when she danced Juliet during her first few weeks of being an apprentice years ago. But Yuri never imagined this would happen to him and it was almost as though he was in a dream.

The delayed elation of the whole situation was finally hitting him and as the elevator opened on the top floor, he felt like bursting. Luckily for him, Viktor was standing right there—almost buzzing in anticipation—and that quelled the giddiness inside of him.

“So she finally told you!!” Viktor said, bouncing even with his bad knee “Are you so excited? Oh, I'm sure you are. When she told me that she was thinking of putting you in as my replacement, I knew it would be perfect”

“It doesn't even seem real yet” Yuri said, letting the whole weight of the situation sink and make his tone almost friendly. Viktor obviously noticed the way his whole body lit up. How did he do that?

“Oh Yuratchka, this role is really meant for you.” Viktor gushed as he led Yuri down the hallway to the practice room. Yuri could see the other dancers of the NYCB getting ready for morning class and all of them were looking at him appraisingly. Many of them knew him from their own time at SAB—going through the school was the only way to get into the company after all—and some of them had obviously heard about the lead role that Yuri had already gotten if the few nasty looks being sent his way were any indication.

Viktor was oblivious to it all as he continued on. “Well the role itself may not be for you, but the music...oh, as soon as I heard the music I thought to myself that it would be something that you would love”

“How do you know what kind of music I like?” Yuri asked.

Viktor just laughed. “Because I've known you since you were six, Yuratchka.”

“You mean you've been _stalking_ me since I was six” Yuri corrected, but he was too happy for his words to have their normal bite and Viktor just let it roll off of him as they reached the practice room.

The ballet master was already waiting inside, talking to the company pianist as he marked something down on the sheet music. He looked up as Viktor and Yuri walked into the room and clapped his hands.

“Ah, here comes my new lead” he said, looking Yuri up and down with a critical eye. “Good height, decent build. Give me five grand pirouettes”

Yuri was taken aback by the sudden command, but the man was just staring at him. He looked back at Viktor who smirked and mouthed “ _welcome to City ballet_ ”, as though a ballet master asking for five _grand fucking pirrouettes_ out of the blue was something normal. Well maybe it was here.

Even though he hadn't properly stretched, grand pirouettes were always a strength for Yuri and he did five with no real problems save for the slight nagging in his quads. The ballet master nodded and noted something down in his book. “decent lines, great turnout. Your arm placement needs improvement and your legs are tense, but we can work with this”

“Uh...thank you?” Yuri said. The man just waved him off.

“Normally all apprentices have to take company class every morning, but I have to be in the studio to oversee our programs for the Saratoga tour in like 15 minutes and Lilia was adamant that you at least get the music and choreography for your solo today. We can start on the pax de deux portions tomorrow with Jillian”

Yuri just nodded, not knowing what to say. Everything was a bit too overwhelming and he didn't even know this guy's name.

“Okay, since Viktor is obviously injured, I'm going to run through the choreography once and will be video taping it. Internalize what I am doing as much as you can for right now and then follow the videotape later on in order to learn the moves. We want you to have the basics of it down by the end of the week”

Have the basics down by the end of the week after just seeing it once and then having to learn off a video tape?? It seemed like an almost impossible task, but the ballet master said it so casually that Yuri figured that this too was something normal here. He was quickly realizing that this is what everyone meant when they said life in the Company was far different from anything at the school. Here it seemed like it was either sink or swim...and swim extremely quickly, at that. He knew that any other male dancer in the company would be more than willing to take his place in the ballet if he didn't get the steps in time, and this ballet master didn't seem like the kind that would patiently wait for him to learn it all.

“I can be ready by then” Yuri said with so much bravado that he even believed it. 

“Good” the ballet master said before nodding to the pianist. He handed his camera to Viktor and then took his place at the front of the room. After two beats, the pianist started to play and Yuri immediately found himself utterly engrossed in the melody.

The music was delightfully dark and rich and beautiful in a completely sorrowful way. But more than anything, it was powerful. This was exactly the kind of music that Yuri could hope to be his solo ballet debut with the company. Something that was lyrical and had beauty but also was powerful enough to quell the people who had always whispered about his longer hair and delicate features. Those people called Yuri 'fairy'. Yuri called himself a Tiger. And this was music that was fit for both.

It was _perfect_.

In a blink of an eye, the song was over and Yuri found himself facing the ballet master.

“So did you manage to pick up some of the steps?”

To his mortification, Yuri realized he hadn't even been paying attention to the dancing at all. Too caught up in the music, he hadn't even registered what the ballet master was doing. It was his first test in the company and he had miserably failed it.

“Uh yeah, I got the basics” Yuri said, lying through his teeth.

From next to him Viktor waved his camera. “I got it on tape, Georgi, so he can review it all. He's Lilia's little prodigy anyways, so he'll get it by Friday” Viktor said with a roll of his eyes that Yuri knew was for Georgi's sake.

And the ballet master responded to it with a shake of his head. “Well let's hope that Lilia got it right this time. I'll see you in class tomorrow morning and then rehearsal afterwards, Yuri” the man said as he checked the clock on the wall. “Fuck, I was supposed to be overseeing Saratoga rehearsals already. Why does she always double book me like this, there are other baller masters here but no, it's always Georgi that has to...”

The man turned on his heels and almost ran out of the room, ranting.

“Don't mind Georgi. He's always overly dramatic” Viktor said and _wow_...coming from him that really meant something. Viktor was the walking embodiment of drama “Damn good ballet master and choreographer, though. That's the only reason why Lilia puts up with him”

Yuri just nodded as Viktor handed him the video camera with a knowing smile. “So you liked the music after all, huh? Don't think I didn't notice you spacing out the whole time”

“It's...nice” Yuri said with narrowed eyes. “Well better than the normal classical stuff, anyways. More badass”

Viktor laughed. “That's one way of describing it. It's by a new hotshot composer, some genius kid from Julliard. People call him the Phantom”

“The Phantom?” Yuri asked, almost laughing “What a lame ass nickname”

“It's from the musical, you know, Phantom of the Opera. It's because apparently this kid doesn't really go to class but then he just comes by and drops off these amazing compositions every now and then. So nobody really knows what he looks like or anything. It's almost romantic, isn't it? Very mysterious”

“Or very socially awkward” Yuri pointed out.

“You're one to talk about socially awkward”

Yuri scowled as he put the camera in his exercise bag. Viktor just smiled and ruffled his hair again. "Besides, it's fitting that you're dancing to something by _The Phantom_ since you're our new little Marguerite"

"Your new _what_?"

"So uncultured, Yuratchka" Viktor sighed "In the musical, that's the role that Christine plays--Marguerite. The whole thing is about her musical debut. And since this is going to be your ballet debut, it's fitting isn't it?"

"You know I don't give a shit about musicals, Viktor" Yuri said. "The music is decent, but I don't want to know anything about this phantom and margarita crap"

" _Marguerite_ " Viktor corrected “So are you telling me that I went through all this trouble getting the sheet music for this piece for nothing?” he asked with fake innocence, waving the music in front of the younger dancer.

Yuri's scowl turned even deeper but he grabbed the papers from Viktor anyways.

 

~~~***~~~

Yuri wasn't the best at playing the piano. He had only first started to learn in order to help his musicality with dancing and had quit his lessons once he had gotten into the year round program at SAB. But he was knew how to read sheet music and play decently, which is why he found himself sneaking into the Julliard piano practice rooms.

Sure he could just go to the lounge in order to play Yakov's piano, but Yuri wanted a little more time alone with the music and he knew that both his grandpa and Mila would want to just celebrate all the rest of today. Yuri just wanted a couple more peaceful hours to himself before his whole life was thrown into chaos.

Most of the practice rooms were empty, which was to be expected since it was the middle of a school day. But before Yuri could slip into one of them, he heard a very familiar tune coming from the one room that was already occupied. It was one of the songs that the sunglasses boy had been playing the day before in the lounge.

Unable to stop his curiosity, Yuri stuck his head into the room and sure enough there he was—the same boy wearing the same oversized sunglasses. This time he was also wearing a leather jacket which was totally cool but also totally weird since it was still the middle of summer. Yuri watched as the boy's fingers slid across the keys so fluidly, the tips barely pressing down on the keys but the sound still coming out strongly.

Yuri looked down at the sheet music in his hands and was suddenly struck with a bout of inspiration.

“Do you take requests?”

The boy at the piano stilled, fingers crashing inelegantly on the keys as he curled in on himself, tense. Yuri quickly came into the room.

“Sorry I heard you playing and...”

“Don't come any closer!” The boy at the piano said, his voice so tense that even Yuri felt as though something terrible was about to happen. He quickly changed to Russian. 

“Chill, dude. It's just me...uh....Yuri. From the lounge last night?”

Fuck, did he just terrify a blind person by ambushing him in a practice room? Well now he felt pretty terrible about himself...

“Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Yeah. The only Yuri that was at the lounge last night. Well, maybe. There could have been another Yuri there since it's a pretty common Russian name and it is Brighton Beach afterall...”

Yuri didn't know why he was rambling, but it seemed to calm the other boy down. His shoulders relaxed slightly and his hands left the piano keys, coming up to adjust his sunglasses and pulling his ever-present scarf up higher.

“I, uh, heard you playing as I was walking by. You're pretty talented” Yuri said after a few silent seconds. “Are you a student here?”

“Yes” the boy said, not offering anything more.

Well, this was awkward. Yuri wasn't a great conversationalist to begin with and this boy was even worse.

“You said something about requests?” the boy said after a few more seconds of silence.

Yuri looked down at the music in his hands again. “Ah yeah, I had some music here and I wanted to play it but honestly I'm pretty shit at piano and I wanted to ask if you could, I mean...if you had time or wanted to, it's not really a...”

“I can try” the boy said, his voice sounding almost amused. Yuri scooted closer to the boy, trying not to startle him like he did before and holding out the papers in his general direction. The boy took them and placed them on the piano stand, maintaining as much distance as he could with Yuri.

“I, uh, can read out the notes for you if you want?”

The boy didn't even turn around. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“Well, you know, since...uh...your blindness?”

The boy's shoulders drooped down again. Okay, that was definitely his way of laughing. “I'm not blind, Yuri”

Oh well...this was even more awkward. But it wasn't like Yuri to be taken down just because of a little... _or a lot of_...awkwardness. There wasn't much out there that could stop Yuri from being the brat that he was born as. 

“Well you can't blame me for thinking you were” Yuri grumbled “with those huge sunglasses”

“I suppose I can't” the boy agreed lightly. “Now let me look at this music”

“Do you think you can play it?” Yuri asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager.

The boy skimmed the pages for a mere second before letting out what sounded like an honest to god chuckle. It was short and too airy to really be heard properly, but Yuri was sure that was what it was.

“Yeah, I can play this”

And with that, the boy flexed his fingers for a split second before they descended upon the keys. Yuri's breath was nearly knocked out of him. When the boy said that he could play the song, he hadn't been lying at all. The City Ballet pianist had obviously been talented, but the song sounded completely different now. It was slower, more sorrowful: more of a lament than a upbeat staccato. But even with the slower tempo, it still had the same powerful beats that Yuri knew he could let his fierceness out for when he danced to it.

However, it was over just as fast and Yuri again found himself yearning for it to be played once more—even more so now.

“You know, you should try out to be an accompanist for City ballet” Yuri said after a few silent seconds.

“What?”

“I mean, you're a student, right? So you could probably have a side gig to make money and they're always looking for new people”

Yuri didn't mention that he also had slightly selfish reasons for the suggestion. He would love to be dancing to this version of the song more than the one that had been played for him earlier. Actually, it seemed like a downright shame to not have this version be the official one. 

“I don't know if I can” the boy said, almost sounding sheepish.

Yuri sighed and leaned back against the wall of the practice room. The boy heard him moving and tensed up once again before he realized Yuri wasn't coming closer to him. He allowed himself to relax slightly. 

“Well you should think about it at least. You're way better than the loser that they have now” Yuri said. 

“I doubt he's a loser, Yuri...”

“He played the song okay, but you were able to actually get real emotions out of it. I wanna dance to that”

“You could sing to it too”

Yuri scoffed at the thought. “What's up with you and wanting me to sing?”

The boy shrugged. “I just think you have a good voice. Maybe like what you think of my playing—I think your voice is very emotive”

“You only heard me once” Yuri mumbled, tips of his ears heating “plus it doesn't even matter anyways. The song doesn't have lyrics”

“We could write some for it”

“You can't just go changing someone else's work like that. It'll be like if I took one of Lilia's ballets and just added my own moves to it. You know, disrespectful and shit”

“Something tells me you might know a little about being disrespectful” the boy said with his weird sagging shoulder maybe-laugh “but it's a good thing that I won't be changing someone else's work then”

“What?” Yuri asked, staring from the sheet music to the boy's back. “Wait, this is your song? You're the _Phantom_?”

The words were out of Yuri's mouth before he even realized what he was saying. And he immediately turned a bright shade of red as he saw the boy tense again. “I mean...that's what I heard that some people call you...not that...”

“It's fine, Yuri” the boy said. “I know that's what people call me sometimes. I can't blame them. Just like I couldn't blame you for thinking I was blind”

“Well maybe if you took off those sunglasses and stopped creeping around then you wouldn't have to deal with shit like that” Yuri said, stepping closer.

And once again, just like he had the night before, the boy jumped off the piano bench as quickly as if someone had threatened him with an iron hot poker. He pulled his scarf even higher up, as though it was some sort of compulsion.

“Yeah, maybe” he said as he backed away slightly, grabbing his bag that he had placed on the ground before. “I need to go now...class...”

Yuri stood stock still, trying not to move at all in case he spooked the other boy out even more as he gathered all his things and went to leave the room. He didn't have a lot of experience dealing with skittish people--ballet dancers were usually the opposite of skittish with their impulsive need to be on stage--but he did have a ton of experience with cats so he figured the no sudden movement thing would work in this situation as well. 

“Hey”

The boy turned around slightly, shoulders tense as Yuri called out to him.

“Are you ever going to tell me your name? Because I don't want to be one of those assholes who calls you by shitty nicknames” Yuri asked. "Plus, it's not fair that you know my name and I don't know yours"

The boy's lips quirked up minutely at one side. “Otabek”

“Otabek” Yuri said, trying the name out. “Okay. Well I'm going to be here tomorrow night playing this song so you better here too unless you want me to butcher it to pieces”

The boy just stood there for a few seconds before turning and walking out the door without saying a word.

Yuri huffed. Just when he thought he was getting slightly friendly with the mysterious _Phantom_. Not that making friends was really a goal he had, but he couldn't deny that a small part of him did want to...impress...or at least make some sort of impression on the guy who wrote the masterpiece that he would soon be dancing to. 

But, Yuri figured, as he gathered up the sheet music, artists were usually the temperamental type so he shouldn't feel that bad about how weird the whole situation was. He wasn't exactly the most friendly of people either, so it did feel a bit hypocritical judging someone else based on their friendliness.

Plus he had finally gotten a name out of the boy...

“Otabek” Yuri said aloud once again. He looked down at the sheet music in his hand. “What a weird fucking guy”

 

**Author's Note:**

> My newest work, which I wrote in order to bust the severe bought of writers' block that I've been having. All the new YOI info that's been coming out has given me a new burst of inspiration as well. The topic of this fic is pretty near and dear to my heart, which not only makes it more enjoyable for me to write, but also far easier. 
> 
> This fic will be updated weekly.


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